


the life we never had

by katotastic000



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Autistic Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent AU, adoption au, family au, fanchild, i'm not autistic nor do i have a prosthesis so please let me know if i do anything wrong, ishimondo - Freeform, so i have absolutely zero ideas how to tag this AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katotastic000/pseuds/katotastic000
Summary: In which Kiyotaka and Mondo decide to give their love a legacy and face the challenges and wonders of raising a child.
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	1. 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After receiving some very nice comments on my Tetsuo oneshot (thank you so much, really <3), I have decided that I'll give it a shot and try to write a fanchild fic, so here it is!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy the first chapter!

(December 15th)

In theory, there was nothing that stopped Kiyotaka from simply saying it, straight and blatant. He had planned this out days ago, as far as his reach extended before he met the unclimbable wall of unpredictability, the uncharted territory of the other's reaction.

He knew that this would, no, _could_ not end badly. They had been by each other's side since age sixteen, doing much more than just accepting their fears and faults. In these twenty-six years, they had survived all ups and downs, maybe with some bruises, hopefully a bit wiser, and no matter what happened, they made it out together.

If everything had gone a little differently in Kiyotaka's high school years, all these things would have been addressed, settled and sat aside as of now.

He had had a plan. It was a checklist for what seemed like achievement and satisfaction back then; planned events on scheduled dates with invited company. It was stuck to his forehead, sent him running after time and titles and it hindered him from seeing anything else, the paths before him, his reflection.

Then things went on as they did, Mondo appeared and took the liberty to rip apart the list. It was painful at first, being left planless, until Kiyotaka realized that one, he wasn't alone at all, and two, the list hadn't dematerialized out of existence, it was just made rearrangeable. They sorted them to a frame and what had been a list of demands had become a list of wishes.

While Kiyotaka could now see through his frame, he had to witness that in some cases the world was not cut out for his wishes and in these cases, it hurt more than any hindering of his plan.

It hadn't even been a full year since they had gotten married though an entire decade, filled with standing still, two signatures on soulless paper and toneless "partner"s, parted the question from the answer. They had grown old and despite the success that Kiyotaka partly thanked Mondo for – their house, their wealth, his place in politics – Kiyotaka felt like the years were wasted. They flowed past with them sitting around and waiting and waiting and waiting, for the starting shot, for simple acceptance, for rights to love and family.

Nonetheless, Kiyotaka needed the acknowledgement for something that, according to his old plan, should have been resolved years ago, deep into marriage. Now he had a better future and still a part of it ahead of him that he wanted to prepare for.

Kiyotaka knocked politely on the doorframe to Mondo's workshop. "Love?" he called out to the man standing at the workbench which filled up the whole back wall in length and was sprinkled with dust and paint. Overspilling shelves lined up to Kiyotaka's left and where there was space, tools and more tools were hung up on the wall like hunting trophies. As much as he would have liked to sort them once and for all, Kiyotaka wasn't capable to find a starting point in the mess.

Mondo was sanding down the edges of a shelf that ideally should not break under the weight of Kiyotaka's collection of nonfictions like its predecessor. He glanced over his shoulder, flashed a grin and turned around. "Hey, baby. What's takin' you here? Am I too loud or somethin'?"

"No, that's alright, I have finished my work anyway. I've brought a glass of water, you haven't had a drink in two hours." Kiyotaka stepped down from the last stair and traversed the room. Standing before Mondo, he extended his hand, cocking his head reproachfully to urge his husband to take care of himself.

"Ah, right," Mondo admitted and wiped his hands on the stained and dusty carpenter pants he was wearing. He pinched the glass by its rim and lifted it out of Kiyotaka's grip while placing a kiss on his forehead. "Thanks for lookin' after me." Busy chugging it down in one go, he couldn't see Kiyotaka wring his hands.

Kiyotaka cleared his throat. "Do you have a moment to talk?" Mondo set the glass aside and leaned back against his workbench. "Sure, what's up?" Kiyotaka looked around, his eyebrows knitting. "I don't believe that our basement is an appropriate setting for this." That made Mondo laugh. "Yeah, makes sense." Kiyotaka nodded, grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs to their living room.

Mondo who had spent most of the day downstairs squinted at the sudden brightness. The sun was setting earlier and earlier by day, its last rays breaking through the heavy cover of clouds and shining right through the window facade. Outside in their backyard, it sprinkled glitter on the snowcapped grass, hedge and pond. The subtle clacking of dogs' teeth on toy bone stopped for a moment as their Labrador retriever looked up from his spot at the end of the couch. Arnold continued his chewing, their Maltese Chuck (his full name was Chuck The Second) sleeping beside him. Fortunately for Kiyotaka, the faint smile that had sneaked onto Mondo's mouth was a common sight for him.

Kiyotaka breathed in. He recounted the notes he had written, the keypoints and phrases, all step-by-step up until the point of uncertainty, brought them to the front of his brain and told himself it was time. He exhaled and began, "Mondo." He received his husband's attention. Mondo watched as Kiyotaka took his hand into both of his own.

"You and I both know that we as a couple were granted access to otherwise ordinary matters relatively late in our lives." Not minding Mondo's frown, Kiyotaka continued on, as firm and formal as planned. "And because of that, we have aged out of the estimated time for certain affairs or simply lack experience for them, given the length of our current relationship status. For that reason, because we find ourselves in the gap between 'too late' and 'too early', I am unsure if this is the right time to ask but I felt the need to discuss this with you."

He took a final breath. This was Mondo he was looking at, the first man he ever truly knew, liked and loved, who was more than content with what little Kiyotaka had been capable of giving him when they were younger, who had gladly taken on the challenge to open the world to him, who was happy to let himself be dragged around by him to live things he had already seen, whose hands were rough and careful, whose lips were chapped and knowing, whose skin was scarred and welcoming to every touch and kiss. He loved him, and Kiyotaka was sure nothing could go wrong. "Mondo, what do you think about children?"

A few moments of silence passed. Mondo spent them squinting and grinding his teeth together; Kiyotaka filled them with his heartbeat accelerating, the desire to tap his fingers and the reminder that he shouldn't hurry Mondo.

All of a sudden, every expression fell off Mondo's face. Except for his fallen jaw and widened eyes, scattering around, he was blank. For a split second, his eyes locked with Kiyotaka's. "You serious?" He sounded breathless. "I, um," Kiyotaka let Mondo's hand slip out of his grasp. He brushed down the sleeves of Mondo's shirt, unsure where to put his hands and ultimately, leaving them on his shoulders. "I am."

Mondo shook his head, mouthed a silent curse and let himself collapse into Taka's arms.

"Mondo!" His voice pitched to a shriek. "Is everything alright?" His shouting certainly was anything else than comforting but he couldn't help it. He slung his arms around the other's broad back, pressed him closer to his chest and squeezed him. Whether that hurt, Kiyotaka couldn't tell and Kiyotaka didn't care. This was the only way that came to mind that could make Mondo aware that he was not alone.

Mondo sniffed and slowly rubbed his nose up and down Kiyotaka's neck. A nod. Kiyotaka untensed, felt his shoulders sink and his arms relax. "Are you..." The answer came before his question was finished. A drop of wet landed on his skin. "You're crying?" Another nod in the same manner as the first. Kiyotaka smoothed down Mondo's hair. "Is that a positive reaction?" Mondo's lips brushed over Taka's pulse, then formed a proper kiss. His breath was short and his voice was hoarse as he spoke, "Yeah."

Tears welled up in Kiyotaka's eyes and were released as he closed them. A sob escaped his throat, then another and another followed and as soon as he knew, he was already clutching to Mondo's back, and cried, unrestrained and honest. "Oh, my love."

"Taka?" Mondo's low voice vibrated against his body. "Ye-yes?" His words were split by uncontrollable breathing, sucking in air, every exhale shaking. "Can I just tell you somethin'?" "I'd be very- very glad to listen."

"I had to think back to twenty-somethin' years ago, y'know, when I thought I wouldn't even live long enough to be here. And now you're coming up with this, puttin' all this trust in me, that you think I can actually raise a child and-" He stepped back, keeping his hands on Kiyotaka's waist. He regarded his husband; graying, his widow's peak more defined, with the first wrinkles showing up, frown lines, wearing glasses and one of their golden rings. Their eyes met in a mutual tenderness, softened through tears and words.

"Shit, I don't even know what I'm tryin' to say." He had to laugh. Kiyotaka nodded and formed a quivery smile. "It's fine," he said. "I can see where you were going." Mondo cupped Kiyotaka's face, used his thumbs to wipe away some of the flood and connected their lips.

While it was no subject of doubt that the love conveyed in that kiss wasn't any other than it had always been, this felt fresh nonetheless. It was something other than what became habit: the quick reminder that was a peck on the cheek or the thorough explanation that was closing eyes and forgetting time and world; it was more. A new shade was added to the "I love you", "I'll let you be a part of me" and "We're bonded"; "I want our love to have a legacy."

It was impossible to tell how long they spent embraced and it did not matter much. Even outside each other's arms, their presence was enough to make them feel close and safe. Forehead leaning together, they sat down on the couch until the tears had dried and the smile had faded as this new happiness became normality.

Mondo pulled back and sighed. "But it's not legal yet, right?" he asked and looked down to his hands laying in his lap. "Adoption, I mean." Kiyotaka pressed his lips together. "Yes, it's still a matter of discussion," he replied. He looked up to Mondo, eyebrows raised. "However, children of our own would work."

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that." "Huh?" Mondo faced him with a wrinkled forehead, looking grim. "I'm sorry, Taka, but I don't want that. I never wanted that. Even if I had a wife." He raked through his hair, parting the long, bleached strands. "That just makes things harder than they are anyway."

Kiyotaka placed his hand on his lower arm. "You have thought about that already?" Mondo chuckled, the corners of his mouth crawling to a smirk. "I mean, 'thought', not really. Just promised myself that I won't be placing new children into this world while knowing that some of 'em don't even have a proper family."

"I take it that is because of how you and Daiya grew up?" Kiyotaka remembered Mondo's older brother, the stories of him and the dates on his gravestone, too close together. And he remembered their mother and stories he was glad he never heard, only knowing that she was someone Mondo and Daiya had fled from. Mondo rubbed his neck. "Because of that, yeah."

Kiyotaka intertwined their fingers and Mondo completed the gesture. "If that's the case, I'll take it into account. I'm ready to wait if the price for it is your happiness." Mondo buried his nose and his smile in Kiyotaka's hair, stubbles scratching on his skin and lips lingering on his forehead. "All this waiting fucking sucks," Kiyotaka heard him mumble and couldn't help a laugh. "It does," he agreed. "But maybe our children will have it better."

* * *

Somewhere, still in Japan but in a completely different location, two proud parents are on their way home. The father in the driver's seat feels the still bumpy stomach of his wife next to him and takes a glance to the backseat, to his sleeping child in the carrier. A small, healthy boy; a perfect addition to the family. Healthy enough to be released from the hospital on his second day. It was soothing, to see him so quiet.

It's just a second in which he looks over his shoulder, in which the traffic light in front of him changes to red and the light to his left still glows orange. It's just a second in which the driver of the car to the father's left decides that he wants to be home a second earlier and can't wait. Even with perfect reflexes, a second is too little time to hit the brakes.

Three deaths on that night; and a backseat survivor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have a [tumblr](https://katoxd000.tumblr.com/) if you're interested it that, I appreciate every visit!


	2. 1

(July 28th)

If Kiyotaka would have had the energy to add more force to his movements, then surely missing the keyhole would have left a mark on the front door. He rubbed down the spot at which he suspected the sharp key's scratch; the night and the skulking fatigue made it hard to see.

Kiyotaka entered. For what felt like, and was actually, the first time in today, he took a deep breath, taking in the thick smell of the warmth of his home. Soft light was emitting out of the living room at the opposite end of the hallway. _Waste of energy_ , was Kiyotaka's first thought but on the second, he found it nicer to come home to a sign of company. Although that company was ideally already asleep. His bones gained weight at the idea of cozy beds, heavy blankets, fluffy pillows and the slow breathing of the proof that he wasn't alone. Kiyotaka snapped up his head that had sunken.

His briefcase slipped out of his hand as he bent down to place it on the ground. He rid himself of his coat, hung it up neatly, brushed it down for tomorrow's use and climbed out of his shoes, supporting himself on the banister of the staircase which led to the upper floor. His spine popped as he stretched. In unfamiliar pessimism, Kiyotaka forecast a stiff neck for the next days. _Weeks_ , more realistically.

"So you're home." Kiyotaka jumped at the voice. Out of nowhere, Mondo had appeared in the door of the living room, his arms crossed, leaning his shoulder against the frame, blocking out most of the light. He sounded flat, gruff.

"Mondo, what-?" Kiyotaka walked over, more shuffling in his pace than he liked. "Why are you still up?" He reached out to his face but did not brave to go further. "Did something happen?"

"You know what time it is?" Mondo asked, voice as hard as his face, contortions etched into stone. Kiyotaka checked his watch. "It is 11:23p.m. Why d-" "Eleven _fuckin'_ twenty-three p.m." Mondo hissed and the curse bared his teeth in a twisted grin. "Nothin' wrong with that?"

Kiyotaka grunted. "I truly am sorry, Mondo. But the elections are only months away. Everyone is in equal demand and stressed out. I can change nothing about this situation." Mondo's expression changed no bit. "It won't happen again," Kiyotaka added and pulled a smile.

"How many fucking times have we been through that?" Mondo threw an arm in the air, shoving Kiyotaka away. "Three weeks I've tolerated this bullshit already and you here tellin' me that it'll still go on for fucking _months_?" He curled his lips and grinded his jaws, the only barrier between his anger and his husband.

Kiyotaka tried a tender strictness, "My love, I-" but Mondo growled, "Oh no, you can't 'my love' your way outta this." He bored a finger into Kiyotaka chest, who didn't falter. "I ain't repeating the stupid shit you pulled in college!" he continued, spitting rage, and Kiyotaka stood still. "You know well what fucking happened but you still haven't learnt a goddamn thing!"

Kiyotaka straightened and his face plummeted blank. "Cool off," he hissed, and it almost cut him.

"Fucking fine!" Mondo spewed. Dragging a string of muttered cusses behind him, he stomped downstairs to the basement. Kiyotaka folded his arms at his chest, his fingers starting to tap.

Mondo was right, that was obvious, and painful. Mondo was right, Kiyotaka knew them both too well to deny it. Anger was the fruit of his worry, they were aware, and its ripeness had become predictable. Despite that, this was a stab in the gut with a knife that Kiyotaka had chosen. It hurt but he had to bite through. His work was his mission. All his life he had dedicated every drop of sweat to it, it was his fate. And fate taunted him with his ambitions, turned them to madness and watched Kiyotaka select the blade with delight.

Kiyotaka's body had tensed and he reminded his brain to relax.

After grabbing his briefcase, he entered the study right to the living room. Cramped bookshelves lined the wall in front of and left of him. The wall to his right was reserved for awards, honors and certificates and photos of receiving them. He displayed them with pride as memoirs of the path that lay behind him. The wide window in the room casted darkness onto the grand desk that stood before it.

There he settled down, opened his laptop and gathered the first of many archive files that Hope's Peak's headmaster had granted him access to. "Just cuz he's friends with the guy," he heard the rumors mumble. There were summaries, statements and speeches to prepare. He rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers and picked out earplugs from the desk's top drawer to mute the sound of fist on punching bag that echoed from the basement.

Kiyotaka's eyes scanned the pages one after another, scientific terms stopping his flow to mock him with their imcomprehensability, logs with dates after dates and times after times rushing his reading forward.

Hope's Peak had done cruelties to this student. Not only was Kiyotaka to understand them, no. He, Minister of Education, who had begun the public uncovering alongside the headmaster, now held the scale between punishment and pardon. He was to bring this experiment to book yet leave the academy, and Headmaster Naegi, standing in the aftermath.

Scanning the pages was insufficient. Every information, every bit of bit of information, could be potentially crucial. He was a public figure, the Man With The Answers. The people raised their heads to him. He had to know.

His thoughts were viscous mire trying to pass through the needlethin holes in the leaden block that was his brain. The printed words weighted so much they seemed to bend into the paper. Kiyotaka screwed up his eyes, widened and closed them again. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, his nails accidentally poked into them.

Were his nails that long? Had he forgotten to clip them? Normally, that was scheduled after every shower. When was the last time he showered? He couldn't remember. He smelled sudden sweat, tiredness, dirt on himself and a stickyness covered his hands that wasn't there before.

Kiyotaka curled a fist. His nails _were_ long, stabbing sharply into his palm.

Shaking the unsettlement out of his head made him dizzy, and he continued. The words swam away under his gaze, hiding in the sheets, causing him to skip, forcing him to restart, laughing at him with their blatancy. Black on white shouldn't be that hard to read.

Glancing at the wall of awards and honors, Kiyotaka knew he had to do this. For the path that lay behind him, the people he was forced to leave, the people who left him behind, the many people he had never met. For his father, his grandfather, his mother, for his own sake. For the name, the ones that trusted in it and the ones that doubted it up to this day.

Why did they only ever see the name? He wasn't Toranosuke, he had his last name, sure, but he was a new generation, a new son, a new boy, a new man with a new name and a surname he managed to give away and extend. He was Kiyotaka Ishimaru-Owada and finally, he felt no shame for responding to "Ishimaru-san" because he knew the man he loved responded to it as well. But they had to ruin it, slander it with old tales that they clung to because people lying in the dirt were easier to step on. Even if Kiyotaka worked himself to death, his gravestone would not say otherwise.

He slammed down a fist on the table, the pencils in their cups, the desk lamp, the pages jittered. He exhaled, less steady than planned, and his mouth twitched.

Sighing, he blinked away some tears and rubbed his forehead. Upon touching hair, his hand gripped.

Gripped hair. Pulled hair. Tighther, tighter, tighter, harder till he could feel the skin contract and leave his skull, tigther till his follicles gave in, the tears returned, tighter till-

He let go and breathed. Once again, he opened his desk drawer, fumbled out a stress ball and squeezed it. That had been a bad sign. Not only support for Mondo's worry but also evidence that his capacities were reached. All he wished for was to go to sleep, listening to Mondo's breathing, and wake up to the next months being Saturdays.

He crossed his arms on his desk and rested his forehead on them and just tonight, he gave in.

* * *

(July 29th)

A gentle outer force shook him awake. Mondo stood next to him, his shirt and sweatpants stained with sweat and his hands red from bandages and punches. His mouth moved, Kiyotaka removed his earplugs, "-asleep. Seemed pretty uncom- Oh, you had your thing in." He gestured to his ear and nodded to himself.

"I just wanted to say sorry." He rubbed his neck. "I said some awful things ya didn't deserve to hear. All this anxiety was just pilin' up these last three weeks and-"

Mondo raked through his hair before his hands fell to his sides. "Taka, I'm serious. I can't repeat college." Kiyotaka couldn't look him in the eyes. They were too deep, too caring, too honest. "I have a carpentry to worry about, Chi, Hina and all of 'em aren't living two hours away anymore, your father can't keep me sane like last time, and-" A pause. "Nevermind, that's stupid." "What is?" Kiyotaka insisted, looking for knowledge to form his answers. "I don't want to raise our child alone."

A gasp. Then silence. A mocking smile rushed over Mondo's face, Kiyotaka watched it fleeting.

"I know it's dumb but you're just gone so often." He spoke more quietly. "Or forever if you keep this up."

Kiyotaka pressed his lips to a line. He stood up and enclosed Mondo in an embrace who welcomed it tenderly. "I'll forgive you your anger," he said. "And I will act upon your worry as much as it is possible for me. This won't happen in the span of tomorrow or next week, but it will happen. I will leave the office on time, with a thirty minute scope, and I will eat, sleep and shower, regularly." He dared to say, "It's a promise between men."

Kiyotaka was prone to failing in matters that concerned only himself and the time he had failed in the past were too many to even start counting. Lack of sleep, careless starvation, headaches after headaches and doses of painkillers nearly high enough to put an "over" before them. College had almost cost him his life, that's why he never finished it. College broke him and Mondo apart, creeping yet fatal, like hammering a nail into a rock and making it burst, but Mondo was stubborn enough to make him survive. Kiyotaka would fail and fail and fail but seeing that a single triumph could do Mondo justice, he would keep on trying like he'd always done.

"And nothing about you in stupid or dumb in any way." Mondo tigthened the hug wordlessly and Kiyotaka tired, or rather unwinded.

They stepped apart, Mondo still holding onto Kiyotaka's hand. "I know how important that Prime Minister thing is to you, but please get work outta your head. Just tonight," he said and he was so, so right and Kiyotaka allowed himself to be taken upstairs.

The bathroom lights dimmed on slowly. It was the bigger one of the two, fully in white tiles and white cabinets and a partially wooden floor. It seemed to have more space than needed and a window that Mondo had added for the sole reason that Kiyotaka once mentioned he had never seen a bathroom with a window.

Mondo walked over to the bathtub, fitted into a corner, large enough for more than one person, and turned on the water that began filling the tub and room with steam.

"I don't think that's necessary," Kiyotaka stated like something not up to debate but Mondo argued softly, "It is. Twenty minutes. It'll be nice." Kiyotaka knitted his brows at him. "I'll even get some coat hangers for you."

That evoked a smile from Taka. "Twenty minutes," he confirmed. "No more than that." He took off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt yet Mondo came over to stop me. "Lemme do that." He placed a peck on Kiyotaka's cheek as he passed him and he soon reappeared, coat hangers in hand, and stored them dangling on the door handle.

Kiyotaka gladly claimed Mondo's services and watched how he worked around buttons and zippers and giggled whenever Mondo smuggled a kiss onto his skin. Before he could enter the water though, he was held back.

"Me first." Mondo removed his sweaty clothes and threw them onto a pile which made Kiyotaka, who had orderly folded and hung up his, wince. Then, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub to take off his leg prosthesis. He swung a leg over the edge and used his arms to lower himself into the water. He opened his arms as an invite. "Now you."

A satisfied hum emerged from his throat as Kiyotaka set foot into the warmth. He settled between the stump of Mondo's right thigh and his slightly cocked left leg and leaned back against his chest. Another hum as Mondo wrapped his arms around his waist. Kiyotaka could feel the tension disentangle, how his shoulders and back melted out of their taut posture, how his eyes lost focus and eventually shut. He got to sense Mondo kiss his temple before succumbing to sleep, hoping that Mondo honored the time limit, wishing that he wouldn't.


End file.
